Sweet Nails, Hard Pie
by WholyTrinity
Summary: DEATH SENTENCE. To the outside world he was a thug, born on the streets, die on the streets. To me he was a savior, showing me kindness from the start, and doing his best to keep me from the road he was heading down.
1. The Bark Is Worse Than The Bite

Out of all the years I've known Billy Darley I've never been able to fully describe him. His personality changes like the wind, a swift uptake in the middle of the morning to a dull standstill as afternoon fades to evening. This habit was not thrust upon him at birth or even during his early childhood, it was a learned skill, something he needed to stay alive in his world. He was a lion, a tiger, and a bear all rolled into one with venomous fangs and a forked tongue that could cut you like the crack of a whip. You're probably asking yourself where I fit into all of this, well I guess I sort of became the lioness, never entering battle or speaking out of turn just a silent witness to events that I was powerless to stop.

P.S. 128 was the southern most of all the public schools in Boston, it wasn't much to look at, just an old brick building surrounded by vacant lots in the cities worst part of town. It was something far from what I had become accustomed to back in Connecticut. In the past year of my attendance I still hadn't figured out just what kind of kids I was going to school with. I was eleven and allowed what little ignorance I had left, that was until sixth grade came along and I was now riding the bus to P.S. 124, the middle school half an hours ride from my home on the south side. It was on this first ride to the new establishment that I met Joe.

Joe Darley was an asshole even back then, a smart ass punk with shit-for-brains that you could smell a mile away. He had taken up residence in the seat behind me, and as I sat quietly reading my copy of 'Mathilda' for the umpteenth time, I felt his eyes on the back of my head. The tugging started shortly after, and the French braids I had done up so nicely into pigtails soon fell out. I was patient knowing that if I ignored his attempts at disheveling me he would soon get bored and turn away. Luckily for me Joe was also patient and even though that morning's torture had stopped in good time the war had begun. The weeks passed and I frequently ended my day washing spitballs out of my hair or catering to bruises left on my shoulders from where I'd been hit with my own school books. It wasn't until winter came though that I began to feel the wrath of Joe Darley and the shithead miscreants he called friends.

There was a park near my neighborhood and when the snow began to fall and schools closed due to the bad weather, this was where the kids would gather. Our second snow day saw nearly ten inches hit the ground my midday so I dressed warmly and hit the streets. I was in a hurry to meet up with a few other girls from my class and decided to take a shortcut through an alleyway I had passed several times. The road seemed to have become a makeshift car graveyard, and I did my best to keep to the direction of the park. I walked for what seemed like hours in the eerie silence that falls when it snows, until I came upon several buildings in which men were working with welding equipment and other tools. A wrong turn around the back of a fifties model Cadillac put me face to face with a grey pit bull, and I scrambled backwards as she rushed for me barking madly. I caught my head on the fender of a Buick and went out like a light, the dog still furiously yanking at her tether to get to me.

I stirred not too long after, opening my eyes I sat up quickly, regretting the move instantly I groaned as the contusion on the back of my head protested wildly. I closed my eyes against the pain and felt for the lump that was surly beginning to swell. The dog whimpered softly somewhere in front of me and I heard the crunching of freshly strewn snow under boots as someone approached me.

"You okay?" A deep, scratchy voice asked. I cracked open my eyes trying to focus on the object in my field of vision.

"I'll live I think." I said not really caring who I was talking to, and thankful the dog had stopped barking.

"Better let me have a look, you might have a concussion." The man before me stepped closer and kneeled next to me. I saw him remove a glove and place his large hand on the back of my head.

"Ouch, watch it." I said as he pressed on the tender spot under my mass of curls.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" He now put his hand up to my face. It was all a blurry mess if you asked me.

"I can't tell. You're all fuzzy." I told him, turning away from his hand.

"Yup, that's a concussion for you." He told me reaching for my arm. I didn't know this person, nor could I see them due to the haze in my eyes, and I tore my arm from his grip. Standing on my own was priority number one and once accomplished I took two steps before nearly planting my face into the Cadillac. "Whoa, whoa." Muscular arms wrapped around my waist and eased me down to the ground once again. "We better get some ice on that head of yours. Hang on a second." I watched him walk away, my vision growing clearer. He had pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and was now filling in with ice from the Buicks windshield. I was trying to focus on his face and just as it became clear a tongue began lapping at the side o my face. It was the pit bull from earlier and I squeaked in response, unable to move from fear she might tear me to shreds.

"Her bark is worse than her bite." I heard the stranger say as the dog nudged my hand with her nose trying to persuade me to pet her. "Here put this on that lump of yours." I took the small pouch he'd filled and placed it on my head, realizing that the hand he had reached out to me was now clear. I looked up from his leather boots and into a stunning pair of blue-grey eyes, I couldn't help but stare. He must have thought my vision was still unclear and he held up his hand again. "How many?"

"Two." I said without taking my eyes away from his.

"Good. You think you can stand now?" I nodded and used his outstretched arms as a balance while I steadied my self. He was tall now that I took the time to notice, five-eight at least and still growing, from what I could tell he wasn't much older than me. The dog nudged my hand again and I jumped out of the trance I seemed to be in as I looked at him.

"Her names Layla; and believe me when I say she'd lick ya to death before even thinkin' about bitin' ya." I looked down into the honey colored eyes of the dog I was sure was going to rip my head off. She stood now with her tail wagging begging me to pet her, which I did and I understood that she was a lover not a fighter. "I'm Billy by the way." I looked back at him, noticing a fresh wound running along his jaw.

" Reilly."

"Well, Reilly, maybe we should get you home." I opened my mouth to speak, but someone cut me off.

"Billy? What the hell are ya doin' out here?" Joe Darley said as he rounded the front of the Buick. I looked back to Billy hoping he didn't recognize the kid in the oversized red leather jacket. Something in his eyes changed, they were cold as stone, no sign of the warmth he had showed me earlier.

"Just helpin' a stray." He told the punk I had grown to hate.

"Hey girlie. Stray is right, did you get lost Rye?" Joe came to stand in front of me, pulling at a lock of my hair. "No piggy tails today?"

"Shut up Joe." I told him swatting his hand away, and walking off in the direction I had come from.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you, bitch." He grabbed my arm and spun me around, laughing as he saw the petrified look on my face. Billy had his hands on Joe's shoulders before I could even think turning him and throwing him back toward the buildings.

"Don't fuckin' touch her, you got that. I better start teachin' you better; now get back in the house." Joe scampered away, like a cat that just had its tail stepped on, and Billy looked back to me. "Sorry 'bout that, you alright?"

"Nothing, I haven't dealt with before. How do you know him?" I asked curiosity getting the best of me.

"Who, Joe? He's my brother." A chill ran down my spine, I was going to have hell to pay come the next school day. "How do you know him?"

"We go to school together, and he's picked me as his human experiment, see how much torment I can take before I crack." I handed him back his now wet handkerchief and thanked him before pivoting and heading back towards home.

"Let me get you home at least, you didn't pick the best street to walk down." I nodded and he fell in step with me, shortening his strides so I wouldn't have to run. The journey was silent and with him next to me it seemed like I got back a lot faster than it had taken me to arrive.

"This is me." I said pointing to a brownstone that meshed with all the others alongside it. "Thanks again, I appreciate it."

"Are you in the same grade as Joe too?" I nodded. "Wow, you seem a lot older."

"Some kids are forced to grow up faster than others, I guess." I turned my face from his questioning stare.

"How's that lump doin'?" He said catching my head in his hand and probing gently with his fingers. I reveled in the pleasant feeling of his palm against my skin, wondering how he could be so hard-as-nails one minute and sweet-as-pie the next. When his thumb caressed my cheek I knew I was in deep and needed to swim back to the shallows.

"I should head inside, my dad's gonna be home soon." He cleared his throat at the mention of my parental unit.

"Yeah, that's a good idea." He seemed visibly shaken and nervous, thrusting his hands into his pockets. I opened the gate and headed up the steps. "Reilly," he called. "If my brother gives you any more trouble don't hesitate in finding me."

"Okay, thanks Billy."

When the bus came Monday morning I took my usual seat, taking out my CD player for the drive to school. A few blocks down we stopped outside of Bones' Body Shop to pick up Joe, whose brother stood smoking a cigarette waiting for his bus to the high school. He raised his head and looked at me, curling his mouth into a sly grin. I smiled back as the bus pulled out from the curb, noticing Joe headed to his seat behind me. His eye was swollen and bruised, I didn't ask because I didn't want to know, but somewhere in my head I knew it was Billy's doing and his brother never laid a hand on me again.


	2. Talk Heals

It wasn't until the following summer that Billy's impact in my life really began to show. Boston grew excruciatingly hot in the few months between school years and it was likely you'd find most kids at the community pool. I loved to swim, but the crowds made it unbearable. It was early that summer when I took another fateful walk down to Bones' Body Shop. Layla greeted me and I eagerly crouched to welcome her kisses and nuzzles. Billy had come to know Layla's yelps and whimpers when I showed up and it wasn't long before he came strolling out. His dark blonde hair had gotten long to the point it nearly touched his shoulders, and the cut on his jaw had healed over into a glossy scar. I looked up as he came around the back end of a beat up Gremlin, and immediately took note of the gash across the bridge of his nose.

"What's up Rye?" he asked in his resonant voice. I stood and chose my footing cautiously.

"What happened, Billy?" I replied trying to sound grown up, it never worked. His eyes flashed and he looked away, I could sense him putting up his guard, but I didn't back down. I stepped closer and tried to get a better look at his face. I was being nosy as usual, and grasped his arm as I lifted myself on my toes to gain height.

"Don't worry about it kid." He pushed at my shoulders and I stumbled back. "It's nothing." The laceration was fresh and I thought for a moment I could see bone.

"It's not 'nothing'." I told him and settled myself on the hood of a Sunfire nearby. "Was it Bones?" My suspicions were confirmed when he became slightly more interested in a balding tire than was normal.

Bones Darley, owner of the chop shop and father to two teenage delinquents, was no barrel of monkeys himself. He hated his kids which was obvious considering their many bodily injuries. I'd figured it out quickly after first meeting Billy that home life wasn't rosy, and therefore he sought the concrete simplicity of the streets. Joe had practically been raised single-handedly by Billy due to the fact that their father treated them more like employees than children. They had chores, but rather than toting out the garbage or cleaning their rooms, they were running drug money all over the streets of south side Boston. My heart broke for the two boys, mostly because I was raised in a good family environment, but more so because they would never know that kind of love.

"Come over here," I said hitting the metal of the car between my leg. "Let me take a look at it."

He slowly made his way over as if he were a dog about to be reprimanded. Even sitting on the car I still couldn't match his height and had to stretch a bit to get a good look at his injury. It was deep, but not as bad as I had expected.

"C'mon, we'll go get you patched up." I said sliding off the hood and heading back towards my house.

"Where are we going?" He asked still rooted in the spot I'd left him.

"My place, there's no way I'm cleaning you up in there," I pointed to the garage. "Besides I have better stuff back home to take care of that."

"Are you sure you're only eleven?" he asked catching up to me in a few strides.

"Twelve. And yes I'm sure." He looked at me a crooked smile across his face.

"Happy Birthday, I didn't know."

"Thanks, I figured you wouldn't give to shits, so I didn't tell you." He chuckled.

We made our way through the streets and back the five blocks to my house. My father was at work so I knew it would be safe to bring Billy in. Any other time though I would have hell to pay. I showed him up the stairs and into the small bathroom at the end of the hall.

"Sit." I ordered. He was looking at all of the things on the counter, my hairbrush, curling iron, hairdryer, perfume, lotion, and a few odd hair clips. He picked up the perfume as he sat down on the lid of the toilet; he popped the cap and held it up to his nose. He made an odd face and practically threw the bottle across the counter. I laughed as I watched him; I'd never expected a response like that from him.

"What are you laughing at?" He posed his manly façade back in place.

"You." I said turning to the closet across from the sink. I dove in head first picking out various items I knew I'd need. When I believed I had all that was necessary I turned back to him and sprawled everything out onto the surface of the sink. I set to work and poured peroxide into a bowl and opened packs of gauze and steri-strips. I washed the area with mild soap and water and proceeded to fill a small dropper with peroxide.

"Okay, this is gonna hurt." I stood in front of him ready for the worst, but he only tipped his head back slightly to allow me better access. I cringed for him as I pushed the liquid out of the tube and into the gash which immediately began to bubble. The only sign of discomfort he showed were eyes squeezed shut. I would have been screaming bloody murder, but not Billy Darley, no sir. I placed a pad of gauze over the area to soak up the remaining fluid and grabbed a tube of super glue.

"Um, where do ya think your goin' with that?" He asked, backing away from my hands.

"Well, improvisation comes in handy for boys that refuse to go to the emergency room." I smiled wickedly. "Don't worry; they do it all the time in the hospital."

"And you know this how?" He was now balanced precariously on the opposite edge of the toilet.

"My mom taught me. Now will stop being a baby so I can finish?"

He relaxed slightly enough for me to hold the wound closed and apply a small ribbon of glue to keep it shut. I held it till the glue tried then put the steri-strips on for an extra measure.

"All done." I told him as I stroked my thumb lightly over the fabric strips to make sure they were holding. He opened his eyes then and looked at me while I went about putting things where they belonged. His piercing blue stare made me catch my breath in my throat, it almost seemed 

as if he was an animal stalking his prey or his mate, but I couldn't be sure. I walked toward the door when I was finished and turned back to see him still sitting there watching me. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah," he said jerking his head to the side. "Yeah, I'm comin'." He stood stretching his long legs, following me out and back downstairs.

"Why don't you have a seat out on the steps, I'll get us something to drink." He nodded and headed for the front door; I came along shortly after with two glasses of fresh iced tea, handed him one and sat on the step beside him.

"Thanks," he stared into his cup, the ice shifting with a tinkle. "For all this." He gestured to his face.

"It's no problem." I took a sip of the sweet liquid and gazed out onto the street.

"So, your mom taught you?"

"Yeah, she was a nurse, and I've always been accident prone." I laughed.

"Was?" He inquired, glancing at me.

"She passed away about two years ago, she had cancer." This was still somewhat of a sore subject for me and I tried to push back my tears; Billy wasn't someone I wanted to cry in front of.

"At least you had her." He whispered. "I don't even remember mine. She took of when I was five, Joe was still in diapers." I was silent, how did you respond to that. "Bones never really mentions her unless he's drunk, and even then you can barely get anything out of him."

"I'm sorry Billy."

"For what?"

"For who your father is, and who your mother never was."

"I deal with it." He finished, setting his iced tea down on the step below him and reaching for his pack of cigarettes. I watched him light up, fascinated with the whole idea of smoking.

"Can I…um," I motioned to the stick between his fingers. "Can I have one of those?" He looked at me for a long while, sizing me up, before handing me one of his Camels. I put the end in my mouth like he did, and he flipped open his Zippo and held the flame to the tip.

"You gotta inhale." I nodded, and did as he said, the smoke filling my lungs. He closed the lighter and I took the cigarette out of my mouth. "Now, exhale." I did, it felt like my chest was on fire, and I coughed. Billy just laughed and clapped me on the back a few times, while I doubled over and hacked out a lung. "Ya know kid, you're not so bad."


	3. Fall Knights

The summer flew by and before I knew it school was back in session and I was seeing less and less of Billy. We kept missing each other, whether he wasn't at the shop when I came by or I was out when he'd make his way down to my house. It wasn't until late September when Billy stumbled back into my life, literally.

The nights were getting cooler and unlike the summer when I'd consistently had my windows open, I now had to close them to keep the chill out. I've always been a heavy sleeper, but the noises coming from the back yard that night were too much for me to stay asleep. I figured it was the neighbors just being a little too rowdy until a tap on my window had me sitting straight up. I was scared to death. I crawled out from under my covers and crept on all fours over to the pane of glass. I could see a figure out on the roof, but couldn't make out features through the blinds. I put a finger in between the frame and pulled the blind slightly away for a better look. I closed my eyes and sighed; releasing the blind I reached for the cord and yanked. This sent the shade flying upward and the boy on the ledge to jump.

"Billy!" I said in a harsh whisper after I'd opened the pane. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Hey Rye!" He said jovially. "Can I come in?" I had no time to give him an answer as he pushed past me and toppled through the window and onto the floor.

"Hey, if you're gonna barge into my room at three in the morning, can you at least do it quietly?" I walked to the door as he brought himself up on his knees. Sticking my head into the hallway I listened for my fathers snores, which reverberated back to me. I sighed and walked over to my bed, in which Billy was sprawled across. "Is there something I can help you with, please tell me I'm dying to know?"

"I need a place to crash." He eyes were closed and his breathing became heavier with each breath.

"Oh no, no, no-no, no. Not here, not now, not ever." I told him.

"Please Reilly?" He opened one brilliantly blue eye and I was done for. "Please, just tonight?"

"One night, Billy, and one night only, you got that?" He smiled and closed his eye, grabbing my pillow and stuffing it under his head.

I proceeded to my desk where I quickly wrote a note to my father explaining why I wouldn't be attending school the next day and stuck it to the front of my door before closing and locking it. Billy's chest rose and fell, he was out, but there was no way I was letting him stay in my bed with that filthy leather jacket and work boots. I counted the precious moments of sleep I was losing fussing over him, but it just couldn't be helped. I pushed him up and carefully removed his coat without to many protests, then moved to his shoes. I set them at the bottom of the bed only to come face to face with a toe, it was bare and sticking out of a hole in a rather threadbare sock. I made a mental note to pick up a new pack the next time I was at the drug store. I took out an old crocheted blanket, draped it over his long form and made my way to the glider in the far corner of the room.

"What are you doing?" Came a rumble from my pillow.

"I'm going to sleep, what does it look like?"

He tossed back the covers and patted the bed beside him. I was lucky and had a queen sized mattress that was left from the old tenants; the bed was more than big enough for the two of us. I dragged myself over and edged in next to him. He opened his eyes and stared at me. I looked away, hair falling into my eyes. His hand was to my face before I could blink and he pushed away the strands wrapping them around my ear. His hand lingered on the side of my neck and then moved quickly to snake around my waist. I gasped as he gripped my hip and pulled me to him. He kept his eyes glued to mine and threw the blanket over the both of us. His arm returned to my hip and rested there.

"What were you doing tonight?" He reeked of booze and pot.

"Celebrating." He said simply.

"Celebrating what?"

"My birthday."

"Oh, so you and your friends were pretending to be twenty-one again, huh?" I asked sarcastically.

"No, it really is my birthday. We were just havin' a little fun."

"You didn't tell me." I said faking hurt.

"I figured you wouldn't care." He lifted the corner of his mouth trying to hide his amusement at using my line.

"Shut up." I said chuckling. "You know I would have gotten you something. Like a first aid kit!" We both laughed.

"I don't need one, I've got you, remember?" He said his face changing instantly back to stoic.

"Ya, I remember, but who said I'll always be around?" I teased, but Billy seemed to take it seriously.

"You better be." The way he said it was cold almost commanding, but his eyes told a different story. He was afraid.

Our eyes locked once again and I felt his hand back at my face, stroking my cheek.

"Can I kiss you?" He'd done it again, changed in the blink of an eye, now sounding like a kid asking permission from his mother.

"Why?" I was confused, we were friends, and there was no need for kissing. The thought of kissing Billy Darley had never ventured into my mind.

"Because, I want to, I've wanted to since the day I met you." He was sincere, but I was astounded. Billy liked me, actually liked me.

"I still don't under…"

"Just shut up and let me kiss you! Please? Consider it a birthday present."

I had no time to respond, no time to react; he just planted it on me. He cradled my face, his strong callused hands gently drawing me nearer. I wasn't what I was expecting, that's for sure. I imagined it would be something like kissing a brother; it definitely wasn't. His lips were soft and warm, inviting me to relax in the moment. He moved his mouth taking my bottom lip between his and I naturally responded. Before long the event that I hadn't even agreed to became a full-on make out session. Billy was the first boy I'd ever kissed, and judging his skills I wasn't his first client. When his tongue probed itself into my mouth I pushed him away. Kissing was one thing; Frenching was a completely different chapter.

"I'm sorry." I told him slightly winded. "I…this…too weird."

"Maybe I should go." He sounded a bit more sober now, but his eyes seemed even more blue than usual and his lips were swollen. I sighed, unable to control myself as I wrapped my hands into his hair and pulled him to me, kissing him fervently until I had no breath left in my body.

"Don't go." I pleaded.

"I won't." He said, enveloping me in his arms. I put my head on his chest and inhaled the smell of him. We fell asleep then, in that moment together, both of us pondering what the hell had just happened.


	4. Sunny Side Up

Several hours after our eyes had finally closed and we settled into the warmth of each other a tapping entered my sleep-fogged brain.

"Reilly?" Someone called, miles away. "Reilly, are you alright? Why is this door locked?" My father, I realized, was now jiggling the door handle only seconds away from picking the lock. I quick unwrapped myself from Billy's arms and mad my way to the door. I pushed my fists into my eyes and prayed for good dramatic effect as I opened the door a crack. My dad was standing inches from the door with his head tilted. I rested my head against the frame and did my best to look sickly.

"I don't feel well, I already called Meghan, she's gonna get my work." I turned my head and coughed.

"Ok, well get some rest, call me if you need anything." He looked worried but headed for the stairs anyway. I watched him go, not turning back to the snoring mass until my father's car had disappeared from sight. I retrieved Billy's pack of cigarettes and lighter from the inside pocket of his jacket and climbed out the window to the small overhang on the back of the house. I sat and rested my feet on the gutter, lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag. Billy seemed to have an ever growing presence in my life, I knew personally he was nothing to worry about, but that wouldn't fly with my dad. My father, Geoffrey McEagan, wasn't overly protective, but he wouldn't hesitate to pull out the shotgun either, especially if he knew who I'd made friends with. I took one last inhale and stubbed the butt out on a dirty shingle, wiping off my backside as I climbed back into my room.

Billy was still out cold, a snore escaping his mouth ever other breath. I proceeded to let him sleep and headed downstairs to make something for breakfast. I stopped at the bottom of the steps and locked the door incase my father decided to double back and check in on me. I filled the coffee pot and poured the grinds, starting the machine and waiting for the aroma to fill the kitchen. I banged around for a while, getting out the pans I need for the bacon and eggs, as well as the ingredients before turning on the stove. I heard the toilet flush upstairs and wondered what had woken him, the noises from the kitchen or the smell of the coffee. I didn't have to wonder long as the gangly teenager bounded down the steps.

"What smells so good?" He asked as I poured him a glass of orange juice and set it in front of him along with two Tylenol.

"Coffee," I replied. "But take those first, I'm sure you're working on a good hangover." He didn't say anything and I turned back to the butter melting in the pan in front of me. "How do you like 'em?" The glass of OJ nearly shattering on the counter as it fell from his hands. I turned my head and chuckled, he was beet red.

"How do I like what?" He asked, his voice an octave higher than normal.

"Your eggs. How do you like your eggs?" I felt rather than heard the sigh exit him; I knew he'd had something else in mind.

"Umm…sunny side up, I guess."

"Good, 'cause that's the way I'm making them." I put the lid over the eggs and turned to see him shaking his head.

"What?" I asked pouring him a cup of coffee.

"Why did you ask, then?"

"I was curious, besides I suck at flipping them and there's not enough milk for scrambled." I put the half-and-half and sugar beside him where he was seated at the breakfast bar. The toast dinged and I moved into action, you couldn't be slow when you were making eggs. I checked the stove and removed the pan, splitting the four eggs in two and sliding them onto plates. I buttered the toast and divvied two slices to each dish before grabbing the bacon from the microwave.

Billy watched in silent adoration, he'd never had a mother around to do this type of thing for him and he found his fondness for Reilly growing. She moved from spot to spot like lightning doling out the food and catching each item as it finished cooking. Soon after she slowed to a normal pace again and placed his plate on the counter in front of him before grabbing her own OJ and coffee and sidling into the stool next to him.

"I didn't know you could cook!" He said popping a piece of bacon into his mouth.

"There's a lot you don't know about me Billy Darley."

I continued to stare ahead of me, through the window looking out to the back yard. I could feel his eyes on me, he wanted to ask what he didn't know, but he had secrets too. I knew the kind of people he hung around with, the trouble they caused when they were together. It was a phase, something he'd grow out of. I blinked and saw his eyes dart back to his plate, as he ran a hand through his uncontrollable locks. I finished and put my two uneaten pieces of bacon on his plate before heading to the sink. I carelessly rinsed off the dish in my hands and mechanically put in into the dishwasher. I felt him come up behind me following my motions at the sink.

"So, are we gonna talk about last night?" I asked taking the plate from him and putting it next to its twin in the machine. I closed it and pushed myself up onto the counter.

"I was drunk," he shrugged not making eye contact. "'Nough said."

"That's not what I meant and you know it." I scolded.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said, looking at me face to face with my added height.

"Bullshit!" I spat. He only laughed and came to stand between my knees. He smiled and pushed a stray hair away from my eyes. He took my hands in his and twined our fingers together pulling me closer in the process. His lips brushed mine ever so gently and I was no longer upset. I hadn't a care in the world other than the boy who wanted to kiss me.

"Is that what you wanted to talk about?" He said resting his forehead against mine.

"Mm-hmm." I pushed my hand around his neck and curled my fingers into the fine hairs at the base of his head pulling his lips back to mine. I tasted bliss and I wanted more.

Billy's hands snaked to my back and scooted me closer, and I wrapped my legs around his middle. I couldn't think, our mouths and bodies and a hormonal frenzy like sharks to blood. I did know I needed to breathe and came up for air sometime later. We were both panting slightly, our lungs craving oxygen. That's when he said it, the thing that would change the course of my life forever. Good or bad? At that precise moment I didn't care.

"Go out with me. Be my girlfriend." I nodded several times; I'd become a bobble-head on the dash of a car. He kissed me again and I was lost. I was no longer Reilly McEagan, girl-next-door, straight A student, daddy's little girl, no I was Billy Darley's girlfriend. Never would I be the same again.


End file.
